in his eye which is ever the badge of the successful
surgeon.

"Well, Mrs. Carey," said the doctor, smiling, "why not relax that tension
a bit? The youngster is right as a trivet."

"I suppose that's your idea of being right as a trivet," Judith retorted.
"In bed, with a trained nurse watching you, and a doctor staying all night
to make sure."

"Bless you--what better would you have? If it were any other boy the
doctor would have been home and in bed an hour ago, I assure you.
Carey--if you don't stop acting like a great fool I'll put you to bed
too."

For Carey was wringing Barnes' hand, and the tears were running unashamed
down his cheeks. "I gave him that rooster myself," he said, and choked.

Upstairs all was quiet. The little life was safe, rescued at the crucial
moment when interference became necessary, by the skill and daring which
do not hesitate to use the means at hand when the authorized tools can not
be had. Every precaution had been taken against harm from these same
unconventional means, and the doctor, when he left his patient in the
hands of his nurse, felt small anxiety for the ultimate outcome.

He said this very positively to the boy's father and mother, holding a
hand of each and bidding them go peacefully to sleep. He would have
slipped away then, but they would not let him go. There were no tears, no
fuss; but Juliet said, her eyes with their heavy shadows of past suspense
meeting his steadily, "Roger, nothing can ever tell you what I feel about
this," and Anthony, gripping his friend's hand with a grip of steel,
added: "We shall never thank the Lord enough for having you on hand, Roger
Barnes."

But when the young surgeon had gone, warm with pleasure over the service
he had done those he loved this night, the ones he had left behind found
their self-control had reached the ragged edge. Turning to her husband
Juliet flung herself into his arms, and met there the tenderest reception
she had ever known. So does a common anxiety knit hearts which had thought
they could be no tighter bound.

* * * * *

Judith and Wayne Carey, walking along silent streets in the early dawn of
the day after Christmas on their way to take their train home, had little
to say. Only once Judith ventured an observation to her heavy-eyed
companion:

"Surely, such a scene as you went through last night must diminish a
trifle that envy you are always possessed with, when y